


you can't get what you want (but you can get me)

by saw2004



Category: My Babysitter's A Vampire
Genre: (not rlly talked about but its implied), Crack Treated Seriously, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Gay Panic, Gen, M/M, Slow Burn, Trans Ethan Morgan, Will add tags as I go, the 7-eleven au nobody asked for
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:08:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25017514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saw2004/pseuds/saw2004
Summary: Recap. Ethan Morgan works at a 7-11 in Whitechapel, Ontario, Canada. It is now 5:49 am. Ethan Morgan fucking hates it here.
Relationships: Ethan Morgan/Benny Weir, Sarah Fox/Erica Jones
Comments: 26
Kudos: 54





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i have never worked in a 7-eleven, nor do i live in canada so pls bear with me. anyways hope yall enjoy <3
> 
> follow me @KA1JUBLU3 on twt

It.s 5:43 am and Ethan Morgan finds himself hunched over a grimy counter in a disgusting chain store, half asleep and running solely on half a can of Rockstar and spite. God. He hates it here.

Not every highschooler wants to work at a 7-11. Usually they babysit or hit up the closest chain pizza joint that has next to no regulated child labor laws. Something easy to score that sweet, sweet minimum wage money. Capitalism sucks but by God if he doesn’t subject himself to becoming a cog the capitalist machine, then what’s the fucking point? It’s every child’s dream to wake up and smell the CCOHS violations of the factory or office building they may find themselves stuck in for the rest of their lives until retirement. Or something. He doesn’t pay much attention in his Government and Politics class.

Regardless of how much he hates oppression of the working class, Ethan Morgan has subjected himself to such fate approximately eight months and ten days ago, when he first started working at the 7-11.

Ethan, sixteen years of age, bright eyed and ready to get his first actual job, decided that checking the back of the newspaper that day was a good start. He found himself at said 7-11 about sixteen minutes away from his house. The fat old manager hired him on the spot, which would have been concerning if not for Ethan looking like he would burst at the seams if he wasn’t hired immediately. Ethan gave it his all, desperate to impress. He subjected himself to janitorial work, cleaning the spilled slushies, scraping hardened grease off the hotdog wheel, attempting (and failing) to clean up the mysterious ooze in the third stall. His suck-uppiness had promoted him to manager approximately one month and three days ago.

God. He’s getting so tired of it. He’s seventeen and yet the bags that settled under his eyes look like they belong on the eyes of a sixty-something year old war veteran who lays awake at night dreaming of his comrades’ deaths. Ethan is that veteran, standing stiff as a board behind the counter having violent war flashbacks to the bathroom ooze. He swears the thing breathes on its own, he saw it with his own eyes.

Ethan has spent eight months and ten days working in this 7-11. There are three current employees here.

Erica Jones, she’s blonde and tall and barely ever comes into work. When she does, she either spends her shift staring at people as if she was hexing them or pulling her girlfriend into the janitor’s closet for her “lunch break”. Sarah Fox, she’s shorter than Ethan and really sweet, though she’s about as tired of Ethan’s shit as Ethan is himself. She spends her shift actually doing her job, thank the lord above, and getting yanked into the previously mentioned janitor’s closet by her girlfriend. Rory Keaner has become the designated janitor after Ethan became manager, and Ethan would literally pay him to stay home some days. While Rory is the only one bold (or stupid) enough to handle the dirtier parts of upholding the subpar store, he causes more messes than cleans them. Ethan caught him feeding rodents to the ooze in stall three once (“Ethan, it eats, I swear! The rat just dissolved!”).

Recap. Ethan Morgan works at a 7-11 in Whitechapel, Ontario, Canada. It is now 5:49 am. Ethan Morgan fucking hates it here.

He hears Rory emerge from the janitor’s closet singing along to some happy hardcore song on his phone, offbrand earbuds plugged into the jack of his shitty Android as he makes an attempt with the mop at a sticky puddle near the frozen treats aisle. He can hear the music from the counter, it’s way too loud. It’s probably his nightcore playlist too, it’s only ever his nightcore playlist. That’s why Ethan never gives him the aux when Rory asks for rides to work sometimes. The next time he has to hear that Angel With A Shotgun Nightcore Remix, he will bash his head on the dashboard so hard his skull shatters like fine china.

What baffles Ethan is how Rory can keep his energy up in what is essentially the loading screen for time itself. Nothing happens at five am. Nothing ever does. God, how Ethan wishes he could float forever in a conceptless world free from time. And space. Forever in a loading screen. Bliss, sweet, sweet bliss.

Ethan’s lost in his head when Rory jingles up to him with a smile on his face. His uniform is rumpled and his shirt is unbuttoned all the way to reveal a graphic tee for some underground scene band Ethan hasn’t heard of, and his wrists are lined up to his elbows in kandi bracelets. Ethan keeps reminding him how that could interfere with his janitorial duties. Rory doesn’t listen. Ethan doesn’t care enough to keep reminding him.

“Dude, you look like total ass. You gotta stop taking nightshifts if you look so tired all the time, bro! Maybe you should go home, I can stay until Sarah gets here.” He smiles.

Ethan goes to say something, but his body has long since ceased proper functioning. All that comes out is a strangled “hnmmmnehh”. Rory nods sagely, as if Ethan spoke the word of the goddamned Budha straight to his face.

“Mhm, mhm, don’t worry buddy. You go home and get some rest, and come back in a bit. I’ll go attack the ooze again. It’s starting to grow sentience, I think.”

Ethan cannot tell if Rory is being serious. Everything that comes out of the dude’s mouth sounds like he’s speaking the gospel truth, he’s so sure of himself. Stupidity  _ and  _ confidence. A golden duo.

Ethan nods slowly, zombie-like, and uses the somehow greasy counter as leverage to pump energy back into his legs. He needs to Google if he can get a blood clot from standing.

Rory salutes the hollow manager as he bounds back to his mop and bucket like a retriever puppy to a toy. Ethan salutes back as he shuffles out of the doors. He looks back to find Rory headbanging. He only ever headbangs to Cascada. He’s probably listening to Everytime We Touch. How Rory keeps his energy up will forever be an enigma to Ethan.

Ethan piles himself into his dad’s hand-me-down 2012 Toyota Corolla. A shitty shitty car for a shitty shitty job transportation. Ethan learned in driver’s ed how driving while tired is the same as driving while inebriated, and you could cause accidents while sleepy, or even get pulled over and arrested.

The law doesn’t apply at five am. Ethan backs out of the parking lot. The ‘OPEN 24 HOURS’ sign blinks mockingly at him in hues of neon green and red.

Ethan arrives at home seventeen minutes later. He collapses in his bedroom three minutes after that.

-

The next day comes way too fast for Ethan. He pulls up to the 7-11 at 6:20 pm, ten minutes before his actual shift starts.

Ethan had gotten used to that sort of monotony by now. Wake up, get dressed and mentally prepare self, school, get back home, video games. Ethan takes the evening shift on weekdays so he has enough mental stability to get himself to school the next day, but he’s subjected himself to night shifts on Fridays and weekends solely because by some cruel twist of fate he actually feels responsible for his job. Sarah and Erica take the day shifts, because God is good sometimes and college students can actually choose when they take their classes. Rory is just always there, and Ethan forgets if he’s the night shift guy or just hangs out there until his shift.

Ethan pulls into the parking lot and parks, stepping out of the car to behold the place where he may just spend the rest of his days in. Live shitty fast food job, breathe shitty fast food job, die shitty fast food job.

What catches his eye after the blinking neon sign out in front of the store is the lanky looking boy standing right outside holding in his hand a few papers.

Ethan’s first thought is ‘that doesn’t look like the health inspector’.

His second thought is ‘if it is, Rory better have cleaned up while he was gone’.

His final thought as the boy turns to look at him is ‘oh wow, he’s cute’.

His eyebrows quirk up in a way that really shouldn’t be cute but  _ it is _ , and he’s wearing a button up from the Old Navy outside Whitechapel, along with a hoodie and really baggy jeans with chunky sneakers. Ethan would criticize his outfit, but he himself doesn’t look much better. He’s pretty sure he owns those exact jeans, too.

“Heyyy, buddy! You uh, the manager of this here fine establishment? I saw an ad looking for the evening shift here, and I need to start saving for college, soooo…” His voice lilts.

Ethan has to physically stop himself from squeezing his chest in cute-boy-anguish.

“Uh- Umm- Huuh- Yeah, yeah- pretty sure the last dude died or something, so- yeah, no time for interviews, you’re hired.” He fumbles over his words and mentally smacks himself.

“Died-? Is this like, one of those places where things come to life during the night shift and tries killing you?” He laughs. Ethan doesn’t get the reference.

“...It’s a 7-11, dude. I think the only thing here coming alive is the bathroom ooze.”

“The what-?”

But it’s too late. The cute lanky boy is being pushed inside by Ethan. Way to go, champ. Erica would probably laugh at him right now. Actually, no matter the circumstance, Erica would definitely laugh at him.

The door shoots open as both lanky boy and Ethan push-walk inside. Ethan heads into the back office, leaving lanky-cute-he-should-probably-get-his-name boy standing in front of the counter. He comes back with a medium size button up shirt and a name tag, along with a sharpie. Ethan hands the boy the shirt and tag, and the sharpie’s put on the counter.

“Okaaay, um, we don’t really have a big uniform policy here, just keep the shirt on and you’re good. Just write your name on the tag and we’ll be good. What’s your name, anyways?” Ethan asks, skimming through the boy’s work papers.

“Benny, Benny Weir. One and only.” He smirks.

Ethan looks up, briefly disgruntled.

“Weir? As in Weird? Wow, dude.”

“Hey, it’s a-!! It’s a family name, dude. Pretty sure it’s like, Welsh.” He folds his arms in front of his chest as soon as the shirt is on.

“I mean- I won’t judge. Erica might, though, if she actually comes in for work.” Ethan laughs.

“You’re like- weirdly ‘lax here, man. Are you sure you’re even the manager? You look like you’re a highschooler. The baby face tells me everything.” He smiles, and his mouth quirks up to the right and Ethan can’t stop himself from  _ melting _ .

Benny gives him a good once-over. Ethan smacks his hands on his cheeks to defend them from the taller boy’s gaze. His mom says it gives him character, mumble mumble.

“Hey, not saying it like it’s a bad thing! I’m just saying, good luck ever doing shit like buying beer. Or like, voting.” Benny laughs.

Ethan can feel his cheeks burn under his hands, and all he does is scowl.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay. I think I’ll have you help Rory with janitorial stuff. You like cleaning grease traps and killing rats?” He asks, voice laced with a hint of bitterness that Benny just doesn’t pick up on.

“Uhhh… There’s rats here?”

“Sometimes. They’re seasonal, like mosquitos. They show up, eat trash, and leave. Rory found one in the freezer aisle eating a frozen pizza a few months ago.” He deadpans.

“What-? That’s awesome, but like, what? Who’s Rory, anyways?” Benny asks.

On cue, Ethan hears a slight thud coming from the side of the building and a small yelp. Ah. There he is. The motherfucker. What a tool.

Rory bustles into the 7-11 with a smile on his face, earbuds hooked up to his Android once more. His hair is messy, and this time he’s sporting a few slap on bracelets from the Hot Topic and an Invader Zim graphic tee.

“The Rorster is heeere, me amigos! Heeeey, who’s the new guy, Ethan?” He asks, leaning oh so not casually on the counter.

“Benny Weir is applying for a job here, Rory. He’s gonna be helping you with the gross stuff for now.” Ethan hums, cheeks still slightly burning.

“Huh? Ethan, you know me, I’m good at the gross stuff! I don’t need an assistant! We do need another cashier, though...”

Ethan shoots Rory a glare that could melt glass.

Rory doesn’t pick up on it at all. God damnit, just let him give the new guy the shitty work for making fun of him, is that too hard to ask? If magic were real Ethan would be putting a curse on Benny’s crops right now. Barren crops and his first born will be taken. Baby face his ass, let’s see how you like it when your wheat dies, whore.

“Cashier? Well, I’d be happy to do that! Right, Ethan? You think I should be a cashier?” Benny smiles again and Ethan’s heart is filled with rage and butterflies.

“I- Well- Hmmmnn…”

“Great! I’ll start right now. Thank you kindly for this job opportunity, Ethan. Future me’s college fund will thank you for your brave sacrifice.”

He gives a deep bow, pinning the (upside down) nametag on his shirt and finding his way to the nearest cash register counter. The one facing directly opposite of Ethan.

What a smug, smug little man.

Ethan has spent eight months and eleven days working in this 7-11. There are now four current employees here.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s been four days since Benny Weir arrived abruptly at the 7-11. Ethan Morgan is in some sort of gay agony, but also wants to thread Weir’s intestines through the ceiling fan.

It’s been four days since Benny Weir arrived abruptly at the 7-11. Ethan Morgan is in some sort of gay agony, but also wants to thread Weir’s intestines through the ceiling fan.

It’s not as if Benny’s not a good employee, trust him, he’s rather good at standing there as the usual tired 9 to 5 office workers come in for coffee, delivering change to the usual group of potheads that stop at the store to loiter and buy pizza, and he’s especially good at preventing middle schoolers from attempting to pump slushie directly into their tiny mouths. That day, Ethan took the liberty to sanitize the slushie station himself. You never know what playground dirt germs reside in their mouths.

No, Benny’s great at his job.

It’s just that he’s so damn smug.

See, Benny is usually stationed at the cash register directly opposite of Ethan. That wouldn’t entirely be an issue if it weren’t for the fact that Benny would take it upon himself to jab at and tease Ethan. From across the fucking room.

It was almost a loop. Everyday he would hurl twenty-two light hearted jokes and jabs at Ethan, and whether or not there was a compliment in there didn’t matter, because _how dare he_.

Ethan’s good at a lot of things, but one thing he’s good at is patterns. Timing. Ethan knows everyone’s usual schedules here, it runs like clockwork. Benny being here throws a wrench into the clockwork. The wrench has smashed into the face of the clock, bashing its internal structures and breaking gears with itself and its cute smile and its ridiculously messy hair and its bright green eyes and-

Anyways.

He’s good at hyperbole, too.

Benny’s a good employee, even if he does trip over his own two feet. He had apparently stumbled over a newly shipped crate of popsicles in the back yesterday, and Ethan had to walk in and find the taller boy’s foot somehow stuck in an empty crate. All he had to offer was a goofy smile and Ethan damn near punched a wall. Of course, he has restraint, though that’s mostly because that would have him risking the fracture of his hand. He’s a weak little boy, and that hand needs to be saved for weekend gaming sessions.

It’s Friday. Erica hasn’t shown up yet again, and Sarah’s called out sick. Rory has insisted he needs to attack the ooze once and for all in the bathroom, and Ethan ends up making the choice to close up at midnight for Rory to clean.

Ethan had made the brave choice to cover Sarah’s shift, and through some devious will of the universe, and also because he doesn’t trust Rory ever since the April Incident, Ethan has appointed Benny to cover Erica’s shift.

This means that, by Ethan’s own self sabatoging, he’s put himself in his own personal hell. Spending hours with Benny fucking Weir until closing.

It is currently 3:45pm.

He spots Benny waving at a customer, and his crooked smile shoots lightning in Ethan’s heart. He’s seething, All five feet and eight inches of him boiling in anger. How dare he be cute AND snarky AND funny AND a nuisance.

When it comes down to it, maybe it’s jealousy. Or maybe because he keeps getting made fun of. Or maybe it’s because the beanpole thinks everything’s a goddamned joke in this VERY big serious work environment. Maybe it’s because he somehow gets to the slushie machine which is, by the way, on Ethan’s side of the 7-11. Yes. He divided up the 7-11 out of spite. There’s tape on the floor and everything.

It’s been four days since Benny Weir arrived abruptly at the 7-11. Ethan Morgan has gotten to know these facts about him, because Benny talks really, really loud in the breakroom, and you can’t blame Ethan for eavesdropping.

Ethan’s managed to break down Benny’s long winded rants to Rory in the back into key points of basic information.

Things about Benny Weir that Ethan heard from the breakroom,

  1. Benny Weir lives near Rory, meaning he probably lives close to Ethan.
  2. Benny Weir is 6’’1.
  3. Benny Weir lives with his grandmother after his dad left. He never knew his mom.
  4. Benny Weir has ADHD. His current hyperfixation is on Star Wars and technology.
  5. Benny Weir is homeschooled by his grandmother.
  6. Benny Weir is bisexual with a preference for boys.
    1. Ethan Morgan is gay. Fucking score. Not that he would date this asshole.



Things Benny Weir has heard about Ethan,

  1. Nothing.
  2. Nada.
  3. Zilch.
  4. Rien.
  5. Nanimonai.
  6. Niets.



Yeah. He should probably talk to this douchebag at some point.

Ethan looks up and at the same time, green meets brown as Ethan and Benny stare at each other from across the barren aisles of the 7-11. Ethan, with annoyance. Benny, with amusement.

They stare. Ethan’s heart starts racing. What if he ends up walking over here? Then he has to talk to the guy, and he has to put up with the beanpole’s stupid jokes and smug attitude.

Benny’s stare looks completely vacant of any thought.

The pair stare at each other harder. An old man opens the door to the establishment. Probably to buy cigars.

They continue staring. A smile slowly pulls itself onto Benny’s face. His eyebrows raise as well, and he looks well passed amused at this point.

Ethan’s face scrunches up, but he continues staring even as he feels his cheeks start to burn. Stupid Benny, stupid klutzy beanpole, stupid pretty eyes, stupid cute smile-

“Hey. Shortcake, the old coot wants his cigars, why don’t you give him his change?” Benny says through a gleeful smile.

Ethan breaks his stare to look at the feeble man. He takes the bill and hands him his according change, waiting until the man walked far enough away to scowl back at Benny.

“What? You’re so snappy, you remind me of those little dogs that pee themselves if they get too excited.” He giggles.

“I am your _manager_ , you don’t- you don’t talk to your boss like that!” Ethan yells, and his voice cracks, god damnit.

Benny laughs and shakes his head, waving Ethan off. He’s brushing him off, the disrespect. Benny Weir is a bastard man.

“Hey man, don’t take it to heart! You know I don’t want to worry your little head, I feel like if I actually get mean your face will explode. You get flustered when you’re mad, it’s actually kinda funny.” He laughs.

Ethan Morgan is going to kill him. As soon as his shift is over.

The rest of Ethan’s shift goes rather uneventfully. Benny continues being, well, himself, and Ethan continues plotting sweet sweet karma on the beanpole even as his shift ends at midnight.

It’s 12:05am on a Saturday and Ethan’s shutting the lights off one by one in the building. Benny’s arms are folded over his chest, smile printed on his face as he stands outside. One of the switches is sticky, and Ethan grimaces, eventually just heading into the back office for a sticky note and a pen. He writes in bold red, ‘RORY. LITESWITCH STICKY. FIX THX’. The note is attached to the lightswitch panel and he leaves, locking the doors behind him. The ‘CLOSED’ sign blinks rapidly in neon red. Benny hums.

“Well, shortcake? Can I go home?” His eyelids droop as he looks down at Ethan.

“Sure. Get lost.” Ethan spits back.

“Goooood, you’ve been so tight-assed, dude. I woulda figured you would have warmed up to me like the rest of the gang, but no! What’s your deal?” Ethan can briefly see his smile twitch.

“...Nothing. You’re just a big bother.” He ducks his head, avoiding eye contact, posture stiff.

“Well, maybe I wouldn’t be such a big bother if you actually stopped being such a snide, nervous little kid. Tell ya what? There’s a fantastic pizza joint on the other side of town. We order it to my place. They have a policy where if they don’t deliver on time in under thirty minutes, it’s free! My favorite thing to do is order really complicated orders so they get confused and it takes too long. A perfected scheme over many, many years. Surprised I haven’t been banned from their establishment yet.” Benny’s grinning the whole way through, holding back chuckles as he recounts his grandiose plan. Those poor, poor workers.

“You… sound like a nightmare to food service workers.” Ethan deadpans.

“Yeahh, maybe, but it’s fine! Just come over to my place, we can relax, have some pizza, maybe binge a couple movies, and you can get that stick out of your ass.”

Benny prods at Ethan’s chest. He instinctively pulls his arms closer to his chest and wheezes. Benny recoils as if he angered an animal.

“Dude, what-”

“You don’t touch a guy there, asshole-!!”

“Shit, um-”

“Christ, you’re lucky I won’t dock your pay!”

“Alright! Alrightalrightalright, listen- Sunday, five o’clock, my place. You can call out of work, right? Give me your phone, I’ll give you my number.”

Ethan’s still on the verge of going feral, but he hands Benny his phone. Two minutes later, and he has a contact in his phone as ‘bennyyyy :)’. Incredible.

He looks up and Benny’s bouncing on his heels, a lazy smile on his face.

“You good? I’ll see you then, yeah? Stay classy, shortcake.”

Benny backs up and fingerguns and _winks,_ fucking winks, as he heads to his car. It’s beatup and looks like a mom van, but it somehow suits him in some weirdly convoluted way. Ethan stares him down as he backs out of the parking lot, driving off in the same direction as Ethan’s usual route. Alright.

Sunday. 5pm. Benny’s house. Sounds good. He’s not going to enjoy this, but at least it’s something to pass the time with.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Benny Weir is a hazard to society and he must be quarantined.” Ethan deadpans into the phone.
> 
> “You are a vengeful, vengeful little man, Ethan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> be sure to follow me on twt @KA1JUBLU3, i post abt mbav a lot lmao

Saturday passes uneventfully. Ethan follows a carefully constructed weekend plan that day, which really was an internal spreadsheet laid out in his brain on what video games to play that day. He gets up late in the morning, eats breakfast, and holes himself up in his room. Usual teenage activity. Detachment from the other people in your household? The usual.

Its 2pm when Ethan gets a text. His phone vibrates as his virtual axe is implanted deep into a virtual zombie’s skull. He pauses the game just as the axe is pulled out and blood splatters, pretty epicly mind you, out of its head. The pause screen illuminates his darkened room with a bright red. Maybe he should pull the curtains back, his eyes are starting to ache.

Ethan turns his phone back towards him. Rory.

‘ _liteswitch fixd, ooze is receding in2 a crak in teh floor X~X gnna deep clean the hole place XD mayb take the rat nest out 2 :P_ ’

Maybe Ethan’s illiterate, but he can’t understand half the shit Rory says to him, text or otherwise.

He punches in his password and pulls up the text thread.

‘ _Great, thank u rory. have fun with that._ ’

Rory responds back quicker than expected.

‘ _found a skeleton in teh ooze @-@ i think itz a mouse haha. btw have fun wit benny 2morrow!!!!! did he send u his adress yet x3_ ’

Ethan spends two minutes deciphering Rory’s text, and forty seconds responding.

‘ _Mouse? also, no, do you have it?_ ’

Like Rory would have his address, god why did he send that oh my god he’s so stupid-

‘ _ya xD here u go!!!!!! alzo ya itz a mouse skeleton like cleened and picked dry like bleach wite bones kinda spooky U~U_ ’

Rory responds with a Google maps link as well, and Ethan clicks on it.

Wait. Wait just a damn minute.

‘ _Rory. he fucking lives next door._ ’

He knew that van looked familiar.

‘ _omgggggg he does??? thats crazy xDDD ya he sayd he lives close to me like i live a street or 2 ovr from him and wow i didnt know that thatz crazy :3_ ’

It is a miracle how Ethan manages to somehow understand what Rory is saying.

‘ _Hes certainly going to be smug about it, dude. he’ll be all ohhhh you live next door shortcake?? haha lol_ ’

Ethan cannot put his rage into any fitting words in the English lexicon.

Rory responds with a cat gif. God damnit.

‘ _Bennys so goddamn pretentious rory you dont understand he makes me so so mad, he walks around like he owns the place and its infuriating i want to take his teeth out individually with a pair of heavy duty pliers_ ’

Another cat gif.

‘ _haha ok eth x33 plz dont take his teeth tho thatz not very nice :V_ ’

A deep sigh. Ethan peels his curtain back and looks down at the house next to him. Indeed, there’s a beat up van next to a smaller house relative to his own.

‘ _Not literally rory, don't worry. im just upset. he’s so high and mighty and just his presence is angering and grrhhrhrr_ ’

Ethan’s fingers drum on the desk as he stares at his phone. Rory responds with yet another cat gif. This one has a cat celebrating taco tuesday.

‘ _oh ok xD butttt maybe instead of being angery u talk to him like actualy for realsies :T cmon it cant b that hard!!!!!!! i believe in u buddy!!! u got a whole day to psyche urself up to hang out with him!!! mayb wen u actually talk to him u wont be so angry -3-_ ’

Curse Rory and his stupid emoticon faces.

‘ _I guess. thanks rory_ ’

Rory responds with a gif of a dinosaur. The caption? ‘Rawr means I love you in dinosaur’. Rory has the charm that makes an outdated joke like that seem tolerable.

Ethan finds himself looking at his contact list. Benny’s name burns holes into his brain. His finger hovers over it briefly to start texting him.

Ethan charts a list in his brain to see what the outcome of this would warrant.

Pros of texting Benny Weir From Work,

  1. Maybe he’s not as annoying as he makes himself out to be???
  2. Friendship points
  3. Maybe he’ll get pictures of his cute face.
  4. There is no number four.



Cons of texting Benny Weir From Work,

  1. He’ll somehow find more reasons to hate him more. Or maybe that’s a pro. That’s definitely a pro. Why didn’t he put that in the pro list? Dumbass.
  2. Actually conversing with Benny.
  3. Having to think about Benny.
  4. Being possible friends with Benny.
  5. Not swearing that Benny is his mortal enemy under any and all circumstances and that one day he will rue the day he made fun of Ethan at work.
  6. Unironically talking to the dude who thinks Reddit memes is funny (Benny tried showing Ethan a Reddit meme at work one day. It was painful for both of them) ((But then again Ethan does look at Reddit some days but it’s fine because at least his taste in memes isn’t SHITTY)).
  7. Having the dork invade his mind 24/7.
  8. Possibly holding hands with Benny because his hands looks really soft and big hands are a total weakness to Ethan and-



Whoa. Slow down, cowboy. This is his mortal enemy, his true rival, the man that he will take down once and for all; A white guy that works at a fucking 7-11.

God. He’s pathetic. Both him and Benny.

Ultimately, Ethan doesn’t text him.

He looks out the window one more time to assess the situation. Yep. That’s a house alright.

He leans back in his chair and stretches, popping something in his back as he readjusts and returns back to his video game.

-

...Ethan’s been doing a lot of observing.

It’s Sunday morning, 11:32am, and Ethan has to be at Benny’s house in six hours.

Ethan has looked out of his window to stare at Benny’s place (out of spite) twenty one times. Each time he looks the house remains the same, still standing and not being swallowed by a sinkhole miraculously summoned by something in the sky. Curses.

Ethan returns to his windowsill, hand twitching as it holds a pair of cheap plastic binoculars. He snuck into Jane’s room yesterday to nab it, some cheap limited edition plastic toy rather than an actual piece of gear. It’s bright pink and the glitter rubs off on Ethan’s fingers, and when placed to his face they are absurdly small.

Heroes always spy on villains to stop their wrongdoings? Right? Ethan’s just seeing if Benny’s secretly some big awful villain that’s ruining Ethan’s life one shift at a time, right?

Ethan squints through the binoculars. Movement spotted. Bingo.

The back door opens, and Benny is being forced outside by someone- a woman- his grandmother? Write that down, write that down.

He’s in a pair of jeans and a loose shirt, along with a floppy sun hat and gloves, and he’s carrying a bag of tools- gardening tools? Tools to foil Ethan’s life.

He’s whining to his grandmother, who’s got a gardening apron on. The backyard looks overgrown with weeds and unwanted flora. Note to self, water the succulents downstairs once in a while.

Benny’s grandmother smacks him across the shoulder and he yelps, and within the next few minutes Benny looks very, very disgruntled with a fist full of weeds. Serves him right.

He looks cute in that hat, though.

1:30pm. Ethan has showered ahead of time and picked out an outfit, which is currently half crumpled on the edge of his bed.

He looks out of the window again. No sign of Benny.

His phone starts buzzing and Ethan jumps out of his skin. He scrambles to grab his phone, half buried under his clothes.

He picks up and sighs.

“Hey, Sarah..! Are you feeling better?”

Sarah responds with a dry cough.

“Um- A little. A little birdie said you’re hanging out with Benny, huuuuh? Try not to bore him to death.” She giggles.

Confliction spreads on Ethan’s face in the form of a deep blush. How did she-

“Who told you I was hanging out with- with _him_?” He hisses.

“Rory tells Erica everything, Erica tells me everything. Kinda like whispering down the lane, except Rory’s really loud.”

Curses. Of course Rory’s the narc. Rory would tell Erica his entire life story in the span of one nail painting session. And he can talk very, very fast.

“Ohh. That’s nice. Listen- I’m only doing it so that way he’ll hopefully leave me alone. He invited me, n-not the other way around-!!” He squeaks.

“Mhmmm. You’re acting like you aren’t gonna enjoy this. I’ve actually talked to Benny outside of work and, spoilers, he’s actually pretty cool. Maybe you should stop holding grudges. You always do that, someone ticks you off once then suddenly they’re your mortal enemy.” Sarah laughs.

“Benny Weir is a hazard to society and he must be quarantined.” Ethan deadpans into the phone.

“You are a vengeful, vengeful little man, Ethan.”

Ethan grumbles incoherently, and Sarah snorts.

“My advice is to just relax, okay? You don’t even have a real reason to despise him. You just got to actually talk to him and know him, then maybe you’ll realize that he isn’t that bad. He totally seems like your type, t-”

“SARAH! He is- not my type, he’s- I don’t like annoying and antagonistic men shaped like those wacky inflatable tube men outside of car dealerships!” He says this, completely serious in his conviction.

Sarah bursts into laughter, howling into the receiver.

“Oh my- God- You didn’t just say that, Ethan, you’re such a dork! You’re perfect for him, just stop being so stiff! Listen, I gotta go, don’t flake out on him!”

Ethan flushes a deep red. He was totally right on the tube man thing, though.

“...Okay. Okay, bye Sarah.”

“Have fun, Eth.”

Sarah hangs up and Ethan throws himself face first onto his bed. This sucks. He really can’t get him out of his head, huh.

Pretty face doesn’t equal pretty personality, it’s basic math, and Ethan is in an AP math course. He’s fucking great at math.

1:41pm. He sighs and looks out the window.

Relax. Get to know him.

Maybe he can do that.

-

5:03pm. Ethan’s dressed in a shirt with a hoodie-jean jacket combo with a pair of, admittedly a little big, cargo pants.

He heads out of the door with nothing on his person but his wallet, phone, and himself.

He takes his sweet time walking next door, walking down the sidewalk. Benny’s backyard is in view. It looks nicer up close.

He hesitantly stops in front of the property, hand brushing on the old gate outside the residence. It’s dark and smells of rust, and overgrown with vines. The house looks nice, though.

He takes his time heading up to the front door, shoulders hunched as he takes in his surroundings.

Hedges, bushes, and more overgrown parts of the front yard give off the impression that some outcasted witch lives here. It’s charming, almost, pretty even. Ethan’s a sucker for cottagecore. All the rage these days.

He gets to the front porch and takes note of the horseshoe above the door as he knocks. So the Weirs are a superstitious bunch.

Two knocks in and Benny opens the door, ruffled and eyes gleaming. He’s smiling, vibrating in place.

“You actually came-!! I didn’t think you would come, man! Welcome to Casa de Weir! That means Weir house.” He looks like he’s going to burst with joy at the seams, and his smile is almost infectious.

Ethan gives a weak little smile back, awkward and shaky but still present enough for Benny to somehow light up even more.

“Here, wait, come on in, man! I ordered the pizza a few minutes ago! If you wanna pick the toppings off when it comes you can, I don’t care. In, in, in! Come in!”

Benny rushes out of the doorway and Ethan continues standing there. Wow. Okay, maybe he’s a little tolerable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a lil bit shorter than anticipated but hope u enjoyed, expect the next chapter in the next couple days :))


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘It is NOT a date it is just a simple movie night as acquaintances because apparently benny thinks i need to be friends with him which is ridiculous i despise him get off my back’
> 
> Erica responds
> 
> ‘AJFJGBFRJRKRFKFJSJKJSK OH MY GODDDD. You’re that deep, huh. I know you’re gay, nerd, but you don’t have to toe the closet line like that.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> btw - this fic has a playlist! it'll update at some points, but i for one think that it slaps hard.  
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6kwHvTGvWH0Bwe3KlKQZAV?si=3CE9Pf6FRaOkIQ3RLTKfAg

Ethan steps into the house and is hit with the scent of sage, some sort of sweet smelling incense (he spots a smoldering incense stick sitting in a holder by the stairwell), and cheap cologne. He looks around, spinning slowly on his heels as he takes in the surroundings. It’s very… green. There’s pots hung on the wall full of plants and succulents, bundles of sage, and Ethan almost trips over a large potted plant.

Needless to say, Benny and his grandmother are certainly one for greenery.

Benny rushes back into the hallway holding several bags of name brand snack foods, smiling and looking expectantly at Ethan for something.

He reminds Ethan of a puppy, vibrating out of his skin and excited at the smallest of things, like food or people. He sort of looks like a puppy, too, with wide green eyes and scruffy hair. His eyes are filled with nothing but happiness towards the near future, at the idea of something like play and snacks. There’s an air of innocence around him, innocence in the sense of ignorance, as if for tonight he’s ignored Ethan’s sour and catty behavior towards him. All he wants is to make friends. It drives Ethan mad.

“...Um- I have the Scooby Doo movie set up in the living room. The live action one with Matthew Lillard.” He jabs a thumb back towards his living room.

Ethan blinks and nods, a snarky comment dying in his throat. Man. Making fun of the guy seems mean now that he’s in his home.

Benny shuffles back into the living room, looking back over his shoulder as Ethan peeks in. It’s nice, comfortable with significantly less greenery. The couches look nice, at least. Benny sits down and curls up near the arm rest. Ethan continues looking around the room, spotting various jars, herbs, and pretty looking rocks on the windowsills. There’s a big geode sat on the coffee table surrounded by several rocks with weird letters (symbols?) painted on them, and Ethan shoots Benny a confused look as he sits stiffly at the direct opposite end of the couch. Benny picks up on it and shrugs.

“Grandma’s a major witch. Literally. I think she’s like, in a coven or something. Wiccan? That’s a thing, right? She’s kinda got me into it, but I really only do the witch stuff because I like the pretty crystals.” He explains, looking around for the remote.

Ethan nods, posture stiff. Benny puts the various snacks on the coffee table as he gets up to check under the couch with a grunt, digging it out from some dusty and unholy crevice. He throws himself back onto the couch and looks over at Ethan, smiling.

“Dude, relax. I don’t bite! Are you scared of the movie? It’s Scooby Doo. We can hold hands during the scary parts.” He’s got a shit eating grin plastered on his face and Ethan flushes pink.

“I- The scary parts? Of Scooby Doo?” He squeaks.

No comment on the holding hands part, but god damn he would pay to have someone hold his hand. A bitch is touch starved. Ethan is said bitch.

“Oh- Hey, I got something for you, by the way. Consider it a peace offering, yeah?” Benny perks up.

Benny digs into his hoodie pocket for something. Ethan watches as an, admittedly gorgeous, pink crystal is pulled out. It looks pulled from the earth itself, all sharp edges and rich pinks and chipped parts. He presents it to Ethan, who hesitantly reaches out to take it. He drags a finger across its surface and it’s scratchy, smoothed out in some parts. He takes it into his hand, fingers brushing against Benny’s palm as he goes to further examine his gift. In the corner of Ethan’s eye, he spots Benny shifting in his spot a little. Ethan brings the rock closer to his face in awe.

“It’s- uh- a rose quartz. The crystal. It’s cool, right? Bought it at a flea market yesterday. It’s where Grandma gets all her witchy crap. I thought it was a chunk of Himalayan salt until I licked it and-”

“You licked it-?!” Ethan wrinkles his nose and tries not to seem amused.

“Only a little bit!” Benny yelps, then turns his attention to the remote to prevent further embarrassment.

“Well- Licking aside, it’s nice. Really. I- I appreciate it. It’s really pretty, Benny.” He looks up and smiles, and Benny briefly looks at Ethan like he has three heads.

“Wooooow, I didn’t expect that to come out of your mouth, shortcake!” Benny teases, and Ethan soon feels nothing but pure rage.

“I have a name, you- you insufferable- I’m not that short! I’m 5’7! That’s not short!” He huffs, crossing his arms.

Benny only giggles, getting up to turn off the lightswitch. He flops back onto the couch clutching the remote, leaning over to get a bag of- marshmallows? Ethan looks over, slightly disgruntled. Benny responds by throwing a marshmallow at Ethan before stuffing ten in his mouth.

“Mmrh- Ethaaaaan, stop being so tense!” Benny mumbles, voice muffled by the marshmallows in his mouth.

Ethan goes to protest, but eventually just slumps over to finally relax on the couch. He feels Benny stare at him out of the corner of his eye, and as Ethan looks over, Benny’s head darts back forward. Hm.

Benny presses play and swallows down another twenty five marshmallows before the doorbell rings seven minutes into the movie. Benny gets up with a joyous shout, pausing the movie.

“Pizza’s here! And they’re three minutes late, Ethan! You know that that means? It’s free! Woo-!!”

Benny scrambles off to presumably argue with the poor pizza deliverer. At the same time, Ethan’s phone buzzes. He stares at the notification and internally, sighs very heavily. Erica.

‘ _ How’s the date going, dork? _ ’

Ethan responds back as quickly as he can, smacking the keyboard mercilessly.

‘ _ It is NOT a date it is just a simple movie night as acquaintances because apparently benny thinks i need to be friends with him which is ridiculous i despise him get off my back _ ’

Erica responds.

‘ _ AJFJGBFRJRKRFKFJSJKJSK OH MY GODDDD. You’re that deep, huh. I know you’re gay, nerd, but you don’t have to toe the closet line like that. _ ’

God. He hates it here.

‘ _ Look yeah i know erica its not exactly some big secret but i am not gay for THIS FUCKER ok?? hes annoying and he thinks hes funny and i doubt there is a singular braincell floating in his head. _ ’

Erica responds and Ethan can just hear the smirk in her tone.

‘ _ You’d be surprised. Benny likes guys, too, did you know that? _ ’

‘ _ I swear Ethan, you’re so dense. Rory tells me like, everything. Have you seen the way he looks at you? _ ’

‘ _ By the way- _ ’

Ethan turns his phone off as Benny walks in clutching the pizza box, smiling triumphantly.

“Score thirty-one for Benny.” He smirks, sitting back down on the couch.

Benny opens the box and Ethan looks over to spot the horrid amalgamation of toppings on top. The room is still dark, so he can’t properly see what hellish pizza Benny ordered, but it smells like fish and something bitter, along with meat. Good god.

Benny digs in to the cardinal sin of pizza, eating it as if it’s nothing. Ethan takes a slice and gingerly picks off everything, throwing things like spinach, anchovy, pineapple, radish, and- jackfruit(?) into the box, leaving only the somewhat stomachable stuff to eat. Not that bad, if you ask Ethan.

The movie is resumed, and Ethan learns a couple more things about Benny Weir that night.

  1. Benny talks a lot.
  2. Benny provides often unneeded commentary over movies.



As the movie plays out, the pizza box is emptied and discarded, and Ethan notices that slowly, slowly, as Benny talks endlessly over the movie, the talker boy scoots closer to Ethan, who’s perched at the other end of the couch.

It’s not that Ethan minds, in fact he relaxes as the night crawls on, knees pulled into himself as he essentially balls himself up. It’s comfortable to him at least.

From Ethan’s peripheral, he sees Benny scoot a little closer and he tries not to blush again, moving his arms to cover the bottom half of his face as he rests his chin on his knees. He scoots closer again. Ethan squints, tensing.

He doesn’t protest, though, when Benny ends up leaning on him as he continues needlessly commentating on the movie.

“Y’know, did you think Velma was…” Benny trails off. Ethan looks over in confusion.

“Was what?”

“Y’know…”

Benny proceeds to let his wrist go limp, waving his hand. Oh. Motherfucker.

“You did not just fucking do that.” Ethan deadpans.

Benny squawks out a laugh, his nose wrinkles and Ethan can’t help but stare, wide eyed as something in his stomach does backflips.

“Hey, I’m not wrong! She totally is.”

He does the limp wrist again and Ethan smacks at Benny.

“Okay! Okay okay, wow.” He snorts.

“I’m not disagreeing, but shut up so I can watch the movie.” Ethan grumbles, and Benny’s face briefly falls before he nods.

Ethan feels as if he just kicked a puppy, and he winces.

“I- I didn’t mean it like that. Sorry. I just wanna watch the movie, okay? I’ll let you talk as much as you want afterwards, so save the notes until afterward, yeah?”

Oddly enough, Ethan finds his voice coming out soothing, as if he’s talking down a child from having a tantrum. Benny agrees though, nodding and going back to wordlessly leaning on Ethan.

Benny’s very warm. He’s warm, and Ethan sort of melts under it, tension leaving his body as they watch the (admittedly, corny) movie. By the end, Benny’s breathing has fallen even. Ethan looks over to find that- oh.

Benny’s fallen asleep on him.

He doesn’t have the heart to wake him, only watching. It’s weird, he knows, and maybe he should prod him awake, but Ethan can’t help but look. His eyebrows are furrowed as he sleeps, and Ethan can occasionally see his long eyelashes flutter. He’s close enough to Ethan that he can smell his shampoo, it’s fruity and a little overwhelming, but it’s sweet and Ethan doesn’t mind one bit.

He checks his phone. 7:34 pm.

Regrettably, Ethan prods at Benny’s face. It takes a minute, but Benny’s eyes flutter open and he yawns, groaning as he sits up. He looks to Ethan and his eyes widen, clearing his throat and smiling.

“Uh- Sorry about that, I tend to crash after watching movies! Dunno why.” He laughs, and Ethan waves him off.

“Don’t worry about it. I think I should get going, actually. Thanks for having me over.”

Benny pouts, but nods as Ethan gets up from his spot. His knees crack as he stands and stretches, something twinging in his chest as he attempts to inhale deeply. Ow.

“Ack- I- Yeah, I need to go. My chest’s starting to hurt, too.” He sighs, cracking his knuckles as he brushes crumbs off himself. Benny nods.

They say their goodbyes, Benny following him out as Ethan reaches the gate outside. He leans on the gate as Ethan heads out, waving him off with a tired smile. Ethan says nothing.

Even as his chest aches, there’s a deeper sort of ache in there as well. Why did he feel bad for leaving? Benny looked upset, too… Man. What the fuck is it? Longing? No. No way, this isn’t some cheesy romance novel, he is not longing for some dude he works with who happened to invite him over to his place, no way is he-

Ethan jumps out of his own head when he nearly trips on the steps of his porch. Damn.

He heads upstairs, half responding to his parents’ questions, stuff like ‘Was he nice?’ and ‘What did you guys do?’ and ‘Did you eat while you were there?’. He’ll answer in the morning.

He gets to his room and flops down face first on his bed, sighing. He kicks his shoes and pants off, then pulls his shirt off before yanking himself out of his binder with a deep sigh of relief. He grabs a random shirt from off his floor, one he probably wore to bed a few nights ago (but he didn’t bother throwing it into the wash because who cares), putting that on before blacking out in his own bed.

Is it cheesy to say that he had thought of Benny right up until falling asleep? Probably.


End file.
